A Lesson In Drowning
by Lemon Crisis
Summary: Kisame learns what it's like to drown. Fluff, AU, KisaSaku, SakuraxKisame


**A/N -** I wrote this before work this morning. I was sitting there just before the morning meeting thinking _noooooo, just let me finish this sentence!_ I've been writing a few lemons for this ship and I just did this as a flash-fiction type break from the hot'n'heavy stuff. So yeah - it's AU and a bit fluffy, and I'm totally not ashamed of that :D. Enjoy!

* * *

Sakura was late.

Kisame hovered by the pre-arranged meeting place. He wasn't nervous. Ex S-rank missing nins didn't get nervous. He was... concerned.

Maybe she'd realised at the last minute what a bad idea this was and flaked. Maybe she was holed up in her apartment with her girlfriends this very second laughing at him. Maybe it had all been an elaborate joke. Maybe -

"Hey Kisame! Sorry I'm late."

 _Maybe he just thought too much._

And there she was, hurrying towards him with her pink hair pinned up and a turquoise ruched dress on that clashed with her eyes but looked amazing on her figure. He wasn't quite sure how women could manage to run in ridiculous heels like that, but Sakura made it look easy. Sexy, even.

He escorted her to the restaurant almost on automatic as she chatted easily about her day; how a trauma patient had come in late and she'd had to stay on to help. He listened, enjoying the sound of her voice. He ignored the stares from civilians as they passed through the streets. They were probably wondering what a beautiful young woman like Sakura was doing with a giant blue shark man on a night like this. He wondered at that himself.

The restaurant was top-notch. Having had nothing to spend his money on while in Akatsuki meant that the wages assigned - and the odd bounty collected - had built up into quite a nice little sum, and he didn't really want to skimp tonight. Sakura ordered yakisoba, Kisame ordered sashimi and a bottle of sake for the table. Sakura ate with delicate bites, but made no effort to fake a small appetite. That was one of the things he liked about her - what you saw was what you got. And what you heard, and what you felt...

Kisame shifted in his seat, suddenly thinking that that turquoise dress would look much better discarded on the floor. Preferably his bedroom floor. She must have caught something in his expression, for she flushed and brought slim fingers up to play with a curl of hair that had escaped. He almost growled, his hands clenching around his cutlery at the provocative body language.

 _Deep breaths. Keep it together._

They left the restaurant after desert and another bottle of sake. He'd raised an eyebrow at the amount of alcohol she was consuming, and she'd confessed to him that her training as a medic meant she could burn it out of her system exceptionally fast if she wanted to. He found it amusing that a pint-sized, pink-haired girl could most likely out-drink him.

They mingled with the other couples out enjoying the festival night, the scent of hot snack stalls and sparklers in the air. Kisame couldn't quite bring himself to touch her, but after a while her warm hand slipped into his, and he curled his larger fingers around hers.

When they stopped to watch the fireworks, Kisame felt like he was in a dream – the dream he had hoped for in the infinite tsukuyomi in fact, except _this_ woman had a name, and a face, and a warm body. It was too good to be true - surely he'd wake up any minute now alone in his cold bed. He turned his head so he could see Sakura's face, the multicolour fireworks illuminating the smooth, gently curving planes of her features.

She must have felt him watching her, for after a few moments she turned to face him with a coy smile, stepping well within his personal space. And suddenly her mouth was on his; those luscious pink lips pressing against his pale blue ones. He froze for a second, surprised by her forwardness, before his instinct took over and he returned it. She made a small sound and her palms moved to his chest, fingertips digging in through the material. He brought his hands up to thread his fingers in her hair, careless of the clips, and deepened the kiss. She opened up willingly, and he slid his tongue against hers, kissing her with all the feverous passion he'd been harbouring. She tasted of sake and festival, with an undercurrent of sweetness that was all her. For the first time in his life, Kisame thought he understood what it was like to drown.

They broke apart, each catching their breath. Kisame blinked at the kunoichi in front of him. Her face flushed and lips swollen. She reached up to pull the pins from her ruined hairstyle and shook her locks out to fall freely atop her shoulders. She laughed then, a delighted, happy sound, and took his hand once more.

They stood together, sides touching and sharing body heat as they watched the rest of the fireworks. Kisame wasn't sure if the reverberations he felt in his chest were from the fireworks or his thumping heart.

* * *

 **All together now - awwwwwwwwww!**

Kisame is a deep character who has a lot more facets to his personality than he lets on. Sure, he's agressive to the point of sadistic, but he's capable of so much more than that. Just look at the guy's history and how he ends. Therefore I humbly submit that the Kisame in this fic is not as OC as he may first appear.


End file.
